FEA: Playthrough of Light – Tome I: Emerina Angelus
by Kalacakra108
Summary: An angel is what she was. A fraction of Naga's own light given form and flesh upon the Earth. The temporal ruler of a holy kingdom descended from ancient heroes. Him? He was just some no-name, amnesiac her brother found on the ground. So then how could he have had the audacity to fall in love with her?
1. Premonition: Invisible Ties

**Author's Note** : Hello everyone! Welcome to my next story, "Fire Emblem Awakening: Playthrough of Light". This is Tome (Part) 1 of 3 planned parts. The idea behind this story is twofold: first, Robin falls in love with Emmeryn as he tries to emulate and live up to her ideals of peace, thus the paring; second, after watching the other characters' support conversations, I decided to pick the pairings I felt best represented them finding their chances at happiness without necessarily delving too deep into either partner's past traumas (something I will, instead, be doing if I ever finish this story and write its mirror opposite, the Playthrough of Darkness, with the Robin x Aversa pairing). While this story will have a somewhat lighter, happier feel to it, that doesn't mean it's going to be all "sunshine and puppies" for our protagonists. No, they will still have their shares of troubles, but someone will always be there to help pull them out of the darkness they might find themselves in.

Now, without further ado, on to the story!

* * *

 **Fire Emblem Awakening: Playthrough of Light**

 **Tome I: _Emerina Angelus_**

* * *

 **Premonition: Invisible Ties**

* * *

He found himself in the midst of a battle for his life. Beside him was his brother in all but blood. Before him was the enemy, his...his own father. His shame at this undesired kinship with a madman who sought to restore to life the very same evil god that his companion's ancestor had sealed away a millennium ago ate away at him. This was a battle they had been preparing for for nigh on a decade. The long, drawn out war with their neighbouring country that had ruined what little gains either of them had made since the last crusade against the desert nation called for by his partner's father 15 years before the two friends had ever met one another. The barely-repelled invasion that crushed almost anything that was still left standing from the long, bloody conflict they had just come off of. All of these events were in someway or another arranged by the svelte warlock they were facing off against, his form almost panther-like as he stalked towards the pair with a murderous smile. And if the two of them failed to stop the dark _sorcerer_ today, he would succeed in summoning the Fell Dragon and destroying the world.

That was, at least, part of the reason they fought him today. There was, however, another reason, motivating both men. One intensely more personal. The _sorcerer_ was responsible for the successful assassination of the queen of their country as well as the failed attempt on the life of the man fighting beside him, which had left him with wounds that would cripple his strength for the rest of his days. But she was not just the ruler of the land they had fought and bled for. _Emm was_...she was more than that. _Much more_. She was the elder sister of the man beside him, the woman who had raised him in their parents' stead since she was ten, and... _the woman that I loved_.

"This is it! Our final battle! You're one of us, Robin, and no "destiny" can change that. Now let's kill this dastard and be done with it!" Chrom's voice broke him out of his reverie.

Chrom flung himself into battle with a furor Robin had not seen in a decade – it seemed his will had managed to triumph over his wounds – at least today – as he and Falchion went after Validar's head.

Unfortunately, Validar proved too much for the royal swordsman, blocking every strike of Chrom's sword with his dark magic. At one point, it seemed like Falchion had been able to score a hit, but as the sword connected, it revealed that the Validar Chrom had hit was just an illusion while the real one was high above, floating in the air, tendrils of corrupted lightning streaming out from his form as he readied an attack on the pair.

 _Validar...my fathe-_

"Up there!" Chrom pointed his blade towards the hovering mage.

Robin let loose with a _Thoron_ as he dove to the side to escape the area of the dark magic attack, but this Validar disappeared as well as the high-powered lightning magic hit.

A burst of dark magic from out of nowhere slammed into Chrom, sending him flying into a pillar that cracked from the force of the blow.

Chrom's wounds were finally starting to catch up with him as he slowly tried to stand up after the hit he had taken, having to lean on Falchion to do so. He had hardly even caught his breath before Validar reappeared and sent a ball of dark energy flying at him.

"Die!"

Robin threw out his hands and let loose a ball of lightning that intercepted the dark mage's attack and drew his attention to the tactician, allowing Chrom to catch his breath, before he swallowed his pain and leapt back into the fray.

Though it had been a long time since Robin had fought by Chrom's side, he found that they rediscovered their old rhythm pretty quickly, and with each other's support, were able to go all out without having to worry about being attacked from behind. Soon, their combined prowess, like a flowing dance of death in which they weaved in and out of their enemy's reach, striking first here, and then above, and then to the side, proved to be too much for Validar to handle. With his silver sword, Chrom broke the sorcerer's guard and slashed diagonally across, cutting into the taller man's torso from his shoulder to his hip as Robin let loose a bolt from his _Thoron_ tome from behind their foe, the twin attacks causing the Grimleal head to crumple to the ground as blood leaked from his chest and smoke rolled off the charred flesh of his back. Validar's body was enveloped in purple flames as he lay dead on the ground.

Chrom turned around to congratulate him on their victory. He was about to relax himself before he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye–

"This isn't over..." he heard the supposed corpse mutter. "Damn you BOTH!"

With barely a second to think as the ball of dark magic bore down on his friend, Robin barreled into Chrom, pushing him aside as the spell cast by his father's dying breath struck him instead.

 _Pain._

 _So much pain. Can't...think straight..._

 _What? I hear...words? Who is?...Chr...om?_

 _I don't understand, Chrom, what are you saying? It sounds like...my head...underwater..._

 _Chrom I don't understan- argh! The pain! OhgodsithurtseverythingisturningredChromwhat'sgoingo-_

Chrom's eyes grew almost comically wide as he stumbled backwards. Robin looked at the man to see what was wrong only to find a spear of pure lightning shoved through his friend's gut. He looked down to find his hand wreathed in the remaining sparks from the attack's discharge.

 _N-no, Chrom what...?_

"This is not your—" the Lord's breath hitched, "your fault..."

" _This isn't your...fault, Rob...in..." she whispered as she lay dying on the floor of her chambers. He was staring down at a beautiful woman who only hours before had congratulated them for repelling the bandits that plagued their borders. Her lustrous blonde hair fanned out around her head like a glorious halo, lending her pale face an angelic mien as the lights from the candles on the chandelier above them sparkled down on her locks._

"Promise me you'll escape from this place..." he gasped for a breath that would never come.

" _Promise me...you won't be sad..." Her hand reached up towards his face, trembling from the lost blood that pooled around her on the ground as he held her head in his lap. Tears streamed down from his face in an indelible torrent. He felt her hand touch his cheek and wipe them away. He was only vaguely aware of his shouts for her not to go, not to leave him._

"Please, go..." with these words, Chrom fell face down on the ground, motionless.

" _Please take care of...Lissa and...Chrom..." With a final sigh, her hand fell back down as she lay there, unmoving._

The dark laughter of a thirsting god echoed through his mind. Only one thought ran through his mind in the moment before it was drowned out by the sound of cruel laughter.

 _Emmeryn...I'm sorry..._


	2. Prologue Part 1: Idyll Pastorale

**Author's Note** : Wow! I can't believe how much of a response I've gotten– 13 favourites and 22 follows – all that just for the first chapter of this story! Thank you so much to everyone who has liked and followed this story! Your support means a _lot_ to me. I've never been all that confident in my prose skills so every one of y'all's favs and follows have been such great motivation! Big shoutouts in particular to Herr _PfefferminzPrinz_ and to the esteemed _csihawk_ , who has written the fantastic Robin x Cherche story, "Awakening - I Search for You", as well as one of the few extant Robin x Emmeryn stories, the wonderful "Awakening - To Love a Memory", which was one of the sources of inspiration for me to begin writing this work myself.

You may have noticed that I ended up changing the name of this first part of the story. The name of this Tome (Part) is now _Emerina Angelus_. I will be reusing _Vivat Regina Emerina_ later down the road. Now, please enjoy this chapter.

* * *

 **Fire Emblem Awakening: Playthrough of Light**

 **Tome I: _Emerina Angelus_**

* * *

 **Prologue Part 1: Idyll Pastorale**

* * *

The gentle warmth invaded his consciousness as the late afternoon sun shone down on his closed eyelids, softly prodding him into a lazy wakefulness. The wind blew, a gentle breath, causing something – _Grass?_ – to tickle his cheek. The light breeze ruffled his hair a little as he lay there – _Where?_

A shadow fell over his closed eyes, turning soft orange into a blue darkness, as a pair of voices conversed above him. He wanted to move, to open his eyes, but for some reason his body simply could not muster up the effort necessary to do any of those things, and so he simply lay there, letting the conversation go on.

"Chrom," a girl's voice interrupted his musing, "we have to do _something_."

"Well," replied the other speaker in a smooth baritone, "what do you propose we do?"

"I..." the girl trailed off, clearly unsure. "I dunno."

These people's voices must have unlocked something in his body, because he felt his eyes slowly open, which probably caught their attention as the man addressed him this time.

The pair of speakers came into full view as his eyes fluttered open. A shock of dark blue hair sat atop the head of the man on his left who looked at him with clear relief in his eyes. On the other side was a girl, a few years younger than the man, with two golden pigtails jutting out from the sides of her head. Her bright, doe-like eyes sparkled in the light as she gave him a kindly smile. He thought he could feel the corners of his mouth turn up in response.

The next moment, a gloved hand filled his vision. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Give me your hand."

As he was pulled up to a standing position by the other man, he saw a purple mark staring back at him from the back of his own right hand. It's six...eyes stared at him as if they could see through to the core of his very being. He decided that it would be best to cover the mark – of which he certainly had no recollection as to how he'd received it – before the two strangers started to ask him questions about it that he couldn't answer. As he got his bearings, he quickly put the hand into a pocket on the side of the long coat he found he was wearing. Looking down, he saw the same "eye" motif embroidered prominently on the vestment, promptly ending any hope he had about not attracting any attention to it. Ah well. Perhaps this way he could possibly find out what it meant, he thought to himself.

Finally standing, he was able to see just who it was that had woken him up. The man who had lifted him off the ground looked young– just into the first years of manhood– though well-muscled, and was garbed in a double-breasted tunic, the same colour as his head, lined with fine gold threading and a high collar, which hid his lower jaw from the side. Matching trousers, underneath a pair of long boots, one largely blue, the other a tawny gray, covered his legs. On his left shoulder sat a silver pauldron covering a white cape attached to him by means of a silver aiguillette and badge, held up by a pair of white belts which crossed each other just above his right breast and again at his left hip, where they were met by a third belt around his waist. On his hip was a red and yellow scabbard which appeared to be housing a long blade. Its fine golden hilt, ensconcing an odd, tear drop-shaped hollow, glimmered proudly in the sunlight.

The girl wore a knee-length dress, as yellow as her hair, covered by a white apron, closed in the back by a large bow, atop which was a brown leather corset. Her dress was split up the sides up to her waist, revealing a steel crinoline underneath. On her legs she wore white riding breeches and brown leather boots.

Behind the pair stood a tall man with wind-swept brown hair who looked to be older than the two by several years. Clad in heavy blue and white armour which was polished to perfection, his chiseled jaw was set into a stiff frown as he peered at her with an expression of unabashed suspicion.

"You alright?" the man asked.

"Thank you...Chrom."

Surprised, the blue-haired man seemed to study him a bit closer. "Ah, then...you know who I am?" the now-identified 'Chrom' asked quizzically.

He clutched at his head and shut his eyes tight, racking his brains for any explanation as to why he had that knowledge but came up with a big blank. "No, actually I…It's strange…" he trailed off. "Your name, it just…came to me…"

The blue-haired man stayed silent for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "…Hmm," he continued, sounding entirely unconvinced, "how curious."

Chrom looked him over once more, taking in the stranger's clothing, or, more precisely, his coat.

"Tell me, what's your name? What brings you here?"

For some reason, that didn't seem like a request.

"My name is…" the man trailed off. "It's…um…" He grabbed his head again, eyes closed. As he opened them, he had a disturbed grimace on his face.

"What?" Chrom asked, eyes narrowing further. "…You don't know your own name?"

The stranger looked around with a look of increasing confusion on his face, eyes desperately trying to identify anything around him. And yet, it all escaped him.

"I'm not sure if..." he began, only to trail off yet again. Starting over, he said, "I'm sorry, but where am I exactly?"

"Oh! Oh!" the little girl began hopping up and down excitedly. "I've heard of this!" she pointed at the stranger. "It's called amnesia!" She looked particularly proud of her professional diagnosis.

"It's called a load of pegasus dung, milady," grumbled the armoured man in the back, shooting him a sharp look.

After exchanging words with the highly suspicious knight, Chrom ultimately decided to take the ostensible amnesiac along with them as they made there way back home.

"Wait just one moment. Do I have a say in this?"

"Peace, friend—I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town," Chrom reassured him. He turned around and started walking back down the path he had come from. "Now come."

* * *

The four – plus Frederick's horse – wound their way through the gentle forest path, basking in the warm glow of the setting sun as its light streamed in through the canopy of trees above. They made the walk in silence. Apart from the thump of their feet and the clopping of hooves, the only sounds in the woods came from the birds and insects.

The stranger walked in the middle of the group, his back to Frederick, who, judging by the gaze he could feel on him, was surely waiting for any sign of a suspicious movement that would give him good enough cause to strike him down with his Silver Lance before he could so much as blink. He looked up ahead to where Chrom and Lissa were walking side by side. In the little time he had known her, the impression he had formed of the petite blonde cleric was that of a loquacious and spritely little thing. The lack of chatter from her was rather surprising, but he supposed that she must have been tired from the walk. Chrom, on the other hand, was taking things in stride with no signs of weariness. Clearly, he was more used to this sort of journeying than his female companion.

The situation only added to his confusion. He wanted to ask what their plans were for him but he just couldn't find the words. A few times during the march, the stranger opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and closed it again. After nearly a half hour of this, however, his curiosity ended up winning out and he decided to speak up.

"S-so..." he spoke up. "What will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner?"

At this Chrom stopped and turned around to face him, with a look on his face as if he had just heard a great joke. Behind the youth, Lissa giggled to herself.

 _Er, did I…say something strange?_

"Hah! You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse," Chrom replied with a chuckle.

"Ylisse..." he rolled the word around his mouth, testing it for any familiarity. "Is that where we are? Ylisse?"

"You've never heard of the halidom? Ha! Someone pay this actor. He plays quite the fool!" Frederick jeered. "The furrowed brow is especially convincing..." the knight trailed off.

"Peace, Frederick," Chrom spoke up, hand raised to stop his retainer. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse," he began to explain to the amnesiac. "Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the Exalt."

"I suppose proper introductions are in order... My name is Chrom — but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here," he grinned teasingly, "is my little sister, Lissa."

"I am NOT delicate!" the girl shouted, disgruntled, before continuing,"Hmph! Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes." She smiled wickedly at Chrom. "But you're lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"

"Er…'Shepherds', you say?" the stranger asked, visibly confused. "You tend sheep?...In full armor?"

Chrom replied with a laugh, "Heh, it's a dangerous job. Just as Frederick the Wary here."

"A title I shall wear with pride," the man said with a nod. "Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution." His glare softened as he turned towards the stranger. "I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

"I…well, I understand, sir. I would do no less myself, in your position." He paused for a moment, as if something had just struck him. "My name is Robin." The others' eyes widened as they looked again at the man who now had a name. "…I just remembered that," he muttered. "How odd. I suppose that's one mystery solved."

"Robin, huh? Is that foreign?" Chrom queried. "…Ah, well. We can discuss it later. We're almost to town."

The birds sang in the boughs of the trees as Robin resumed the march with his new companions. This time, Frederick walked beside him.


	3. Prologue Part 2: Blood on the Square

**Author's Note** : Hello folks, sorry for how long it's taken me to update this, but this has really been my first time writing action and combat which has been a new experience for me. I've tried to add in a lot more detail to the underlying world of _Awakening_ that may not have been immediately obvious in the game. For example, we always see our units with their faces uncovered, even in combat, which, naturally, is a common convention of fiction, since it helps us better recognize and identify with them, instead of seeing them as faceless mooks. That would be, however, however, an exceptionally dangerous trend in real combat. Thus, I have decided to explicitly mention helmets, on which I did a bit of research before writing this chapter. Frederick is wearing what is commonly-known as a "frog-mouthed helmet", a variant of the greathelm which developed for jousting tournaments; it is this style of helmet that enemy Great Knights appear to wear in their portraits in _Awakening_. The helmet worn by Chrom is the helmet worn by "Soldier"-class units in the game; it appears to based, historically-speaking, off of a combination of two different helmet types: the Phrygian helm (from which comes the high, peaked skull) and the Morion (the type of helmet we commonly associate with the Spanish _conquistadores_ ; it is from this that the sharp brim of the helm is derived).

* * *

 **Fire Emblem Awakening: Playthrough of Light**

 **Tome I: _Emerina Angelus_**

* * *

 **Prologue Part 2: Blood on the Square**

* * *

The amiable silence was pierced by Lissa's cry of alarm– "Chrom, look! The town!"

Her brother rushed forward to the edge of the woods where she stood, on a hill overlooking the settlement they were heading towards. The white buildings of the town were being consumed by lashing tongues of flame, each conflagration a beacon of death and destruction. As he beheld the thick clouds of dark smoke rising from the burning hamlet below, Chrom's noble countenance was filled with wrath and his eyes with fire, a terrible expression on so handsome a face.

"Damnation!" he cried, baring his teeth. "The town is ablaze! Those blasted brigands, no doubt!"

Chrom raced down the hill, shouting at Frederick and Lissa to follow.

"Milord!" called Frederick, quickly catching up to the running warrior after mounting his horse, Lissa seated behind him. "What about Robin?" he queried.

"Unless he's on fire as well, it can wait!" the cobalt-haired swordsman yelled back as he pulled an infantryman's helmet over his head, the skull of the headpiece forming a tall cone which curved forwards into a point. To the helmet were riveted a pair of bronze crescents which formed a sharp bicorn brim that shielded his eyes from the sun.

"Yes, milord! Aptly put!"

The Great Knight pulled his own helmet, a titanic mountain of iron shaped like the mouth of a frog, over his head, which Lissa helped him fasten as he charged ahead towards the town's entrance atop his warhorse, Silver Lance drawn. The pair paused behind the walls of a home bordering on the town's square, and the knight allowed the maiden to dismount from the back of his steed as they waited for Chrom to reach them in order to begin investigating the source of the flames.

As soon as the blue-haired swordsman joined up with his companions, the three heard a villainous laugh from the square followed by a shriek of terror from a woman.

The cry prompted the trio to rush out from behind their hiding spot to find a muscular yet pot-bellied man with a wicked grin on his face. His torso was unclothed, save for the bear pelt covering his back and shoulders while a large streak of some red liquid was painted across his belly. Similar daubs of crimson were painted on his face, which bore a wicked scar that only added to his overall brutish appearance, with his lowset brows from under which small, beedy eyes shone with a certain glimmer– not that of intelligence, but cruelty. He held a young town girl who had fallen on the ground up by her wrist, as three other brutes moved to surround her. The shattered remains of a market stall lay behind them, its various wares scattered or crushed to pulp under the feet of the armed savages. The villain hefted an axe into the air

"Chrom! We have to do something!" Lissa shouted, horrified.

"Don't worry," grunted the blue-haired fighter as he slammed into the man with his pauldron, knocking him away from the helpless lass who escaped his grasp and ran behind Chrom. "After today, these bandits will never bother anyone ever again..."

At this, the first man retreated across a bridge at the other end of the square in front of the town's temple, where several more fighters quickly stepped into place around him. The other three weren't able to escape as quickly so they merely put some distance between themselves and the interlopers and drew their own weapons. The tension in the air was palpable as the two sides eyed each other, both waiting for the other group to strike first. A bead of sweat rolled down Lissa's back as she tried to slink back to safety, leading the town lass with her, the two women clutching each other tightly.

Then, just as it seemed that someone would break the the stalemate, a voice behind Chrom cried out, "Wait!"

"Robin!" the caped swordsman replied, surprised. "You followed us! Why?"

"I...I am not certain myself," he replied hesitantly, before moving his robe aside and reaching to his side where a sword hung on his belt. He unsheathed the bronze blade, "But I am armed, and I do know my way around a fight, if you would have me."

"Of course!" the noble youth exclaimed, his face lighting up under his helm, "strength in numbers!"

"Just make sure you stay close," he added.

"Thank you, Chrom," responded the fair-haired amnesiac.

"Remember, Robin," came Frederick's voice, "we face practiced thieves and murderers. They will grant us no quarter. It's kill or be killed." Robin nodded at the mounted knight, catching his steely gaze even through the shadowed slit of his helmet's occularium.

By this time, one of the bandits, deciding that it would be a good idea to take advantage of their supposed distractedness, skirted around the edges of the square before bringing his axe down on Chrom, who had barely enough time to dodge. Not giving the young swordsman any time to recover, the axeman swung his weapon at Chrom again, blade rising upwards towards his jaw in a deadly arc. This time however, Chrom was prepared and blocked the blow with his strange sword, before pushing the assailant backwards with a straight foot to the gut.

Before the brute could recover, Robin fell upon him with his own blade, seemingly knowing exactly where to strike to keep his opponent off-balance. He traded a volley of blows with axeman before batting away his weapon with a powerful parry.

"Now, Chrom!"

At the sound of his name, the blue-haired swordsman lunged forwards and thrust his Rapier towards the knave's throat. The long, slender blade pierced through the back of his neck, blood dripping from its length onto the cobblestones beneath.

The wind blew through the town streets.

Then the blue-haired fighter pushed his foe back with a hand, sliding the blade out from his throat, and watched him crumple helplessly onto the ground, gurgling on the blood flowing from the wound. He ended the poor wretch's suffering a moment later, with a second thrust through the brute's heart.

"Heh," the young swordsman chuckled to himself. "Glad to see all those fencing lessons I was forced to go through as a kid actually came in handy."

' _That sword certainly looks to be of a much better quality metal that whatever rusty old iron these villains bear…'_ Robin mused to himself, humming thoughtfully as he watched Chrom flick his blade to divest it of blood before returning it to a second sheathe at his side. _'Hmm…castle-forged? Not just anyone can afford– or know– to wield one of those.'_

He was broken from his reverie when he heard the blue-haired swordsman call his name.

"So, Robin, I see you know your way around a sword. Is it—" he cut himself off as a book, bound in faded yellow cloth, fell out from one of the pockets of Robin's robes, a stylized lightning bolt embroidered in bronze on the cover. "Wait, is that a tome?… You know magic?"

"I...believe so?" he replied hesitantly. "I suppose I should check."

"You believe so–" Chrom was cut of as Robin cracked open the tome and chanted the words on the page, extending his right arm towards a swordsman coming towards them with his blade drawn. Suddenly, a magic circle of glowing light appeared in front of his outstretched hand before a small bolt of electricity was sent flying through the air towards the incoming assailant. Unfortunately, the spell flew wide and the Thunder bolt struck one of the market stalls next to him, causing it to burst into pieces. Thankfully, this had the effect of making the swordsman retreat a few paces to avoid being struck by the flying debris.

Chrom and Lissa stared at their newest ally, completely dumbfounded.

"Perhaps I'll…just keep a few paces behind you for the time being…" the blue-haired youth muttered.

"No, I can control it, I'm sure. Now, how did this work again? Ah, yes…"

Saying thus, Robin once more raised his hand towards the enemy swordsman and let loose another bolt from his Thunder tome, the shock from which paralyzed him, leaving him easy prey for Robin to dispatch with a swipe of his bronze blade.

He took a moment to catch his breath– the consecutive spell- and bladework having required a great deal of effort– as Chrom and company caught up to him.

"Still with us, Robin?"

"Quite," he replied with a wry smile. "Hmm…Though, this is rather strange. Here on the battlefield, I can…Well, it seems I can 'see' things."

"See things? Like what?"

"The enemy's strength, their weaponry, the flow of battle…I must have studied this somewhere."

"So, you're saying you can size up the enemy at a glance?"

"Indeed t'would seem so. And quite a bit more, perhaps, if I apply myself…"

Catching his breath, Robin pointed at another axeman standing in the middle of the square just up ahead, the murder on his face clear as day, before taking off towards him, sword drawn.

"You are all right, aren't you, Robin? Don't rush into danger."

The aforementioned amnesiac chuckled as he ran at the knave, calling out to the blue-haired man behind him. "I'm fine, Chrom. Don't worry!"

Robin's blade swung down in an arc of bronze as he brought his sword down upon his opponent's head with an overhead strike, which the axeman leapt backwards to avoid, before sweeping his axe out in a horizontal slash. The blow caught the flat of Robin's blade and knocked it to the side. Before he could recover, Robin found himself forced to dodge a series of consecutive attacks which he found unable to counter, too close to his foe for his sword to be wieldy and take advantage of its greater range– or pull out his tome.

As he blocked a barrage of blows that left the muscles in his arm burning from their force, Robin heard a bellowing battle-cry from behind him and glanced back to witness Chrom running towards them, his strange longsword trailing behind him. The young swordsman stopped suddenly, barely two paces from his foe, and used the momentum he had built up to rotate his body, smiting the villain in the back of the neck with his gleaming blade. The force of his blow struck the knave fullbore, and, were it not for the boiled leather jerkin the man wore, would have cleft his head right from his shoulders.

Chrom let out a sigh of relief, wiping the blood off his face with the back of his glove. "That takes care off all those dastards here in the square," he said as he surveyed their surroundings.

"So it seems," replied Robin, stepping up beside him. "Look sharp though, we still have a bit more trash to clean up." He pointed across the town square, to where the wild-looking axeman from before had gathered with the rest of his men, who were busy defacing the walls of a large building in the middle of the street.

Frederick's face contorted into a rictus of utter hatred as he snarled in a low voice, "Heretic scum…" The leather of his glove creaked audibly as his grip tightened around his lance. "To dare deface the house of the gods…They will pay for this insolence."

"What is that place?" Robin asked, surprised by the usually stoic knight's words.

"That would be the town's temple, Robin," Chrom replied to him, his own grip tightening on the handle of his blade. "It's as I feared…"

"What?"

"We will have time for questions later," the Great Knight interjected from atop his mount. "Let us first cleanse the streets of these rabble."

"Heh," Chrom smirked. "Indeed." He turned towards Robin. "So, Mister Tactician," he began, "have you a plan for how we will take them out?"

"Tactician…" Robin mulled the word around in his mind for moment before breaking into a bright smile. "I guess I am, huh?" He shook his head before pointing to the canal that undercut the bridge up ahead and separated the town square from the temple. "Chrom, what's the purpose of that canal running through the middle of the town?"

"Ah, that? I believe it has something to do with the temple. Frederick?" he handed the question off to the knight.

"Milord," Frederick began slowly, as if he were a schoolmaster at his lessons, "would be quite right. We build our temples on the banks of rivers, or, failing thus, surrounded by man-made waterways. Judging by the presence of the latter, I would assume this is a newer construction."

"Oh?" asked Robin. "What for?"

"The water serves as a reminder of the purity we ought to abide by in the house of the gods." Frederick glared at the men across the square, "A purity being desecrated with each passing second."

"Right. That's probably enough chit-chat then. Here's the plan," Robin began to speak. "Frederick, Chrom, I'm going to need you two to ride in from that alley to the right and knock those bandits down into the canal. I'll deal with them from there. Hold your charge until after I've taken care of their mage," he said, opening his tome.

"Alright, got it. We'll leave him to you Robin. Let's go, Frederick."

"Hey! What about me!?" cried Lissa.

"I'll be needing your help to heal me if I get hit. Think you can give me a hand?"

"I'll show you who's delicate!" she exclaimed.

He quirked a little smile at the girl's outburst. "Just stay behind me."

"Are you sure this is a good idea, milord?" Frederick asked, suspicion clear in his eyes.

"I think it's tactically sound, Frederick," Chrom replied, before turning to their erstwhile strategist and clapping an arm on his shoulder. "Take care of my sister, Robin. We'll do what you need done."

Robin nodded back with a smile and clasped his hand against Chrom's forearm. "I will. Thank you. And may the fortunes of war be with you."

Chrom clambered onto the back of Frederick's steed and the pair rode off into one of the side streets to the right and disappeared from view.

"Well Lissa, that leaves the two of us. I am going to challenge that mage to a duel to distract them from Frederick and Chrom. I will need you to stay by my side but hidden behind that stall up there," Robin said, pointing at an unbroken market stall at the end of the square. "If I get hurt, can I trust you to heal me immediately?"

The slight slip of a girl nodded enthusiastically, a serious look on her face. "You got it Robin!"

Robin gave her a small smile and walked forwards, motioning for her to stay hidden but follow behind.

"Your crimes end here, dastards!" he yelled across the canal to the bandits on the other side. Thankfully, it seemed he was out of range of almost everyone there save the mage. Just as planned.

"And who's gonna stop us, boy?" the large man from before challenged. "Your friends done gone and left you here!"

He ignored the jeers and laughter from his foes and simply launched a Thunder-bolt across the water at the mage.

"I'm enough for small fry like you."

"Grah! Get him Razzaq!" The enemy mage, apparently the aforementioned 'Razzaq', stepped forth, tome in hand and a villainous gleam in his eyes.

He pulled out a green-bound tome and opened it.

"Get ready, Lissa." Robin stood there, unmoving.

The enemy mage threw his right arm out and out shot a greenish gust of wind, which, though it hit and pushed Robin back a bit, also threw up a cloud of dust around him, hiding him from sight.

"Oh my gods, Robin! Are you okay?"

Robin looked hardly any worse for the wear, save for some dust and some out of place hairs. "Perfectly," he said with a smirk.

The sound of a cruel laugh came from across the canal.

"That idiot! He just stood there and took it! And now, he's dead!"

The other bandits started laughing as well.

They didn't laugh for long. As the smoke from the mage's attack cleared, Robin's form was once again made visible, still standing strong.

" _Time to tip the scales!_ "

He let fly yet another bolt from his Thunder tome, this one striking his foe right in the chest. This blow was strong enough to kill him in one hit. The mage clutched at his heart as the lightning coursed through his body, frying his heart. He fell to his knees, eyes rolled back into his head, body black and steaming from the shock.

The wind blew through the town. No one spoke a word. Both the bandits and Lissa, still hiding behind the cart, just stared at Robin with wide eyes.

As they stood there, the clopping of hooves could be heard from off to the side and Frederick rode in twirling his Silver Lance, a warcry on his lips, _"Pick a god and pray!_ " he yelled, swiping out with his weapon to knock the bandits into the water of the canal. Only the burly axeman from earlier was able to dodge Frederick's strike, but he took a glancing blow from Chrom, who was seated behind the Great Knight.

"Robin, now!" the young swordsman yellled.

The young spellsword conjured lightning from his tome one more time, sending the punishing bolts of electricity flowing into the water of the canal down below, where it fried the knaves who had fallen in. Their charred corpses floated in the water.

The battlefield grew silent again as the full impact of what Robin's tactic had wrought swept over everyone there. With a cry of fury, the axeman let fly one of his blades towards Frederick, but found it batted away by Chrom's blade. With his attack rendered impotent, he began to back away from the mounted fighters, only to find his escape blocked by tactician whose hand was wreathed in crackling Thunder.

He fired the bolt of magical electricity at the murderous chieftain of the bandits, who was forced to roll away to avoid the strike.

"Chrom!" Robin called for the youth.

The blue-haired swordsman hopped off Frederick's steed and rushed at the rogue, blade in hand. Together, Robin and Chrom set upon the sole survivor of the band of thieves like a pair of wolves. In the face of such combined ferocity, his attacks found no purchase, and he was forced to constantly dodge the swing of sword or the spark of a spell. It was an effort that he was unable to sustain for much longer as the edge of Chrom's sword finally found purchase across his gut, sending blood spilling upon the stones below. The foeman fell to his knees, weapon fallen, trying in vain to stymie the flow of the life-blood that escaped his body. A swipe from Robin's blade put him out of his misery.

The three fighters were finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as Lissa looked them over for any wounds.

"Well, that's the end of that," Robin said weakly, as he sat against a wall.

"Lucky for the town, we were close by. But holy wow, Robin!" Lissa exclaimed. "You were incredible! Swords, sorcery, _and_ tactics! Is there anything you can't do?"

"You're certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure," Chrom laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Indeed. Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here?" Frederick asked frostily.

Robin gave another sigh before answering the mounted knight. "I understand your skepticism, Sir Frederick. And I cannot explain why only some knowledge has returned to me. But please, believe me. I have shared all that I know."

"You fought to save Ylissean lives," Chrom smiled. "My heart says that's enough."

"And your mind, milord? Will you not heed its counsel as well?"

"Frederick," Chrom addressed his retainer, "the Shepherds could use someone with Robin's talents. We've brigands and unruly neighbors, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician? Besides, I believe his/her story, odd as it might be."

"Th-thank you, Chrom," the tactician mumbled, taken aback by Chrom's unabashed trust.

"So how about it? Will you join us, Robin?"

"I would…I would be honored," he replied, eyes watering slightly.

Hearing an end to the sounds of fighting, the townsfolk started to peer out their windows. Upon sighting the dead bodies of the raiders who had come for them, they rushed out onto the streets. The huddled masses of grateful survivors surrounded the four saviours of their town, thanking them for guarding their home.

Pulling Chrom aside, Frederick remarked in a low voice, "Did you notice, milord? The brigands spoke with a Plegian accent."

 _Plegian._

Something about that word echoed faintly Robin. "Plegian?" he asked. "What's that?"

Chrom began to explain about their neighbouring country and its constant warmongering with Ylisse until he was interrupted by the throng of townsfolk crowding around them, urging them to stay the night. The town's ealdorman, a rotund gentleman wearing a heavy golden chain from which hung a large medallion demarcating his status, exhorted them to stay the night and enjoy their hospitatlity. Sadly though, they had to pass on the offer in favour of spending the rest of the day traveling, in order to make haste back home to Ylisstol– much to Lissa's audible displeasure.

They continued their march homewards for several more hours before clearing a camp for the night. Later that evening, after a hearty meal of roasted bear-meat, Robin turned in for the night and promptly drifted off into a deep sleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : The necklace worn by the town ealdorman/alderman/mayor fellow is a reference to the medieval livery collar/chain of office– a series of linked, golden chains from which usually hung a medallion signifying one's status or membership in a guild or order.

Please leave a review, fave, and follow if you enjoyed it or if there's something you think I could have done better! Thanks again for reading!


	4. Chapter 1: The Fires of Hell – 1

**Fire Emblem Awakening: Playthrough of Light**

 **Tome I: _Emerina Angelus_**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The Fires of Hell – 1**

* * *

Chrom awoke in the middle of the night to an uneasy feeling in the air. The blood of the Hero-King and the First Exalt, diluted though it may have been, thousands of years after their time, still flowed in his body and the princeling felt the crimson fluid bubble uncomfortably in his veins. His face felt flushed and a cold sweat had broken out across his neck and back.

The young nobleman had a hearty constitution and it wasn't often that he fell ill, which only served to heighten his caution. He looked around the clearing in which he and his companions had taken their night's rest. The roaring fire around which they had earlier eaten had by now dimmed to a pile of embers. The baleful red glow they cast upon the pile of leftover bones from the bear they had eaten earlier lent the scene a grisly appearance. Groaning, Chrom sat up on his bedroll, regretting the decision made in their exhaustion to just leave the remnants of their meal out in the open like they had instead of burning or depositing them far away– what if some wild animal had come into their camp in the middle of the night, attracted by the smell of food?

As he gazed into the abyssal darkness that was the forest, the young noble began to feel that something was... _off_. It felt as though the darkness of the night was encroaching ever more with each passing second, seemingly trying to blot out any sign of light or life, no matter how meager, as though they were an eyesore. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something move.

"...Huh?"

A yawn from behind him broke Chrom out of his reverie. Turning around, he saw his sister stretching her arms as she awoke.

"What's wrong, Big Brother?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to wake you, but... Something is amiss…" he replied distractedly.

"Define 'something.'"

"I'm not sure... I think I'll have a look around."

"Not alone, you won't!" the maiden cleric protested. "I'm coming too."

"Heh. Thanks, Lissa," Chrom replied, helping her up.

* * *

As the noble pair walked further into the woods, their feelings of unease only continued to grow stronger. The cloying feeling of being choked only grew stronger in Chrom's throat as he found it harder and harder to draw breath against the sense of malevolence permeating the midnight air.

"It sure is dark…" Lissa remarked, uncharacteristically quietly. "And quiet. Where did the birds go?"

It was only then that Chrom even noticed the stillness of the air and the silence of the forest.

He licked his dry lips and spoke, voice coming out in a hoarse, raspy whisper, more to himself than in answer to his sister. "Something is wrong here..."

Not long after those words left Chrom's mouth did the ground begin to shake with such a force that the rumbling seemed as though it were filled with the anger and wrath and madness of the long-dead Earth Dragons themselves, come back from the grave to enact their long-overdue vengeance upon the world.

Chrom could barely hear Lissa's cry over the sound of the violently cracking earth. "Gods, what— Agh! What is this madness?! Lissa, stay close!"

* * *

The two siblings began to run, trying to flee the cataclysm destroying the woods around them. Violent waves of molten earth sent masses of burning stone streaking through the air in bright, blazing arcs, which tore into the forest, setting alight the trees and plants within as Chrom and Lissa tried their best to not be struck by one of the falling missiles– even a single hit would mean death. They fled through flames and smoke, coughing, trying to stay on their feet amidst the dense mat of roots and the shaking earth.

They soon broke into a clearing, which, apart from the small brush fires burning here and there was left relatively untouched. The pair caught their breath, hoping that the worst was behind them. Unfortunately for the two young nobles, things were only about to become all the stranger.

"Chrom, what _is_ that?!"

In the sky up above, uncountable points of white light began to coalesce into a single sphere.

Suddenly, the ball of white light burst, and the midnight sky, which had heretofore been cast a deep purple from the flames below seemed momentarily to be drained of all colour.

Then, just as suddenly, the flash of light gave way to two white rings, divided into several sections, which were marked with constellations and the ancient runes of the zodiac. A gleaming white crescent appeared in the lower half of the circle, before its mirror image arose above it, showing itself to be an enormous eye, draconic in form, teaming with ancient and unfathomable powers, glowing an awful turquoise with a black slit for a 'pupil' at its center.

The pair of young siblings stood below, gazing up at the sky, which had been rent open by an eldritch energies beyond their ken, and watched the glowing 'eye' ripple as a pair humanoid shapes fell to the earth from within its depths. As the figures stood up, the two youths could see their eyes gleam a bloody red from within the darkness of the woods into which they had fallen.

Shaken from his stupor, Chrom drew his ancient blade, ordering his sister to get behind him. And not a second too soon.

As soon as the order left his lips, the two unknown figures charged forth. The one in front leapt at him, axe in hand, but it's movements were predictable to the trained fencer, and he easily sidestepped the blow before dealing one of his own across his foe's body, ending up back to back with the thing.

A beat.

The young swordsman's eyes widened as he realized he did not hear the sound of a falling body. But why?! The thing wore no armour 'cross it's breast. That single blow should have felled the man.

Unfortunately for Chrom, what he faced was no man, he realized, as the thing's head twisted around to face him at an unnatural angle, eyes gleaming, red as blood, before its axe followed. Chrom managed to bring his blade to bear in time to block, locking their weapons together. He managed to break the lock, shoving the creature to the ground, before leaping into the air at it, sword flashing blue, and driving the blade into the thing's back.

This, thankfully, was enough to deal with the monster, whose inhumanity was stark even in its 'death'; upon being defeated, the thing did not simply collapse, leaving behind a corpse, as would a man, but instead it evaporated into a cloud of noxious purple dust, dispersing into the wind. Chrom found himself kneeling on the ground as he tried to catch his breath, blade driven into nothing more now than the earth. Unfortunately, his battle with the foul thing had taken all his focus, and Chrom did not remember until too late that there was a second creature that fell from the sky until his sister's cry came from behind him, shrill and tinged with terror.

"Chrom!"

The aformentioned young man whipped around to see his little sister backing up against a rock, staff held out in front against the menacingly advancing creature. As the monstrosity raised its axe into the air, prepared to end the sprightly young cleric's life, Lissa felt time slow down and gazed upwards into the sky, hoping against all odds for a miracle.

Thankfully, it seemed that Lady Naga heard her child's pleas and saw it fit to answer them, for as Lissa readied herself to meet her doom, the eye glowed and rippled once more, as a third figure dashed forwards, jumping out of the sky just ahead of Chrom.

The creatures axe flashed and fell towards Lissa.

The young woman shrieked and turned her head aside in fright.

Instead of the feeling of a cruel hatchet cleaving through her flesh, Lissa instead heard the sound of blades clashing, and a moment later, when she slowly opened her eyes, daring to look, the sight before her caused them to go wide.

There before her stood a handsome youth, dressed entirely in a dark blue that matched the shade of his hair. His noble features were hidden by a finely-crafted mask, and what little could be seen, namely his mouth, was set into a grimace as he strove to stave off the blade of his murderous foe.

Chrom stood behind them, dumbfounded at the intervention of this utter stranger, before he was brought back to attention by a grunted "Help!" from the mysterious youth. He rushed forwards with a mighty yell at the creature. The foul thing turned around to see, drawing away its attention– and the pressure of its blade– from the masked youth, who then shoved it backwards before bringing his blade to bear against the monster. At the same time, Chrom also struck the thing across the body, ending up with his blade pointed in the same stance as the masked youth, blades pointed in opposite direction, though neither saw this, as stood with their backs facing the other.

This creature too, erupted into purple smoke as it perished.

The masked combatant sheathed his blade as Lissa recovered from her near death.

"Quite an entrance," Chrom said. "What's your name?"

The masked warrior paused a moment, before turning his head slightly to regard the young man before him.

"Milord! Milady! Are you hurt?" It was in that very moment that Frederick thundered in on his steed with Robin right behind him.


End file.
